Cherry on Top (HIATUS)
by Gummiedrop
Summary: When Light Yagami writes down Naomi Misora's name in his Death Note, he expects that to be the end of it. But things don't have a way of working out for the aspiring god, and when you kill someone's parents... well, they're bound to seek revenge. [Canon Divergenet AU involving some OCs. Slow start.](Current hiatus; I will either work on re-writing this, or it will be deleted.)
1. Chapter 1: A Life Lost

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Death Note. I only own my OCs, for whatever they're worth…

 **Warning(s):** Nothing worse than the actual series... so far. (Which is TV-14, but it's not like I can actually stop younger readers from reading.) (Also, this story has a slow start to it. I hope that you can overlook this.)

 **Edit:** _(9/28/17)_ This arc ends on Chapter 5, which means that a time skip happens on Chapter 6 which takes all the (more) important events that lead up to the actual Death Note series's arc. If you don't want to read this arc, you can skip to Chapter 6, but that's not what I recommend, as you will likely miss a few major details. Then again, it's up to you. Just thought I should at least let you know. :)

 _(10/8/17)_ I will be revising some of the chapters, as my writing from when I started this has tremendously improved since then.

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

A Life Lost

 _2004_

Naomi Misora cradled the small child in her arms, hushing him to sleep. She rocked gently back and forth in the rocking-chair given to her by her mother, an unreadable expression spread across her face. She could hardly believe how fast things had changed in her life since the events of the LA BB Murder Case. If you had asked her a day after the case was closed, she would've told you that she would never end up married and never have a kid. To think, she was proposed to not even a full year later, and now… Well, it was something she had never anticipated.

The child snuggled against her chest, violet eyes shut and muscles relaxed. Naomi wrapped the blanket around his fragile arms and carried him to his room, carefully tucking him into bed. She still felt odd knowing that he wasn't really her own, but she knew that adoption was her and Raye's only option after trying and failing for so long...

Speaking of Raye, it seemed like he would be working late again tonight, too. Naomi frowned slightly as she moved into the apartment's kitchen, heart heavy as she remembered when she too was an FBI agent. It's already been around a year since Raye's proposal and her leaving of the workforce. They were planning to have the wedding after Raye meets her parents. It was difficult to plan, considering the fact that he was still part of the agency and as such had responsibilities here in America. She could only hope that he would manage to find time to take off work. Naomi didn't want to postpone the wedding any longer than necessary now that they had a new family member. Then again, it wasn't as if there was a drastic need for any sort of rush.

The sound of keys clicking in the lock outside the door caught Naomi's attention, and she turned to greet her fiancé.

"Naomi," Raye said, returning her smile. She took off his coat and hung it in the compact closet as he sat down his briefcase, pulling out several documents that likely needed his review. The two moved into the dining room, and Naomi began to make tea as Raye started reading over the papers.

"How's work?" Naomi asked, pouring the tea into the cups. Raye scribbled down his signature on one of the forums before looking up at her and sighing.

"We've been stuck in a rut, lately. No new leads, no spontaneous developments, no nothing." He flipped to another document and begun writing notes in the margin. Naomi handed him a cup, which he gladly took, and sat down next to him. She scanned through the files before picking one up that had caught her interest. A recent series of robberies taking place throughout one particular branch of banks, each one resulting in a loss of $10,000 every time, no more no less.

"Do you have any suspects yet?" she asked curiously, thumbing through the pages. Raye glanced up from his work and rubbed his eyes with one hand, groaning.

"You aren't an FBI agent anymore, Naomi…" he began, trying yet failing to put what he wanted to say nicely. "Besides, we have a kid now. He needs more attention than these files. Leave the work to me, okay?" She nodded and returned the packet of papers, sipping her tea.

"I know that, Raye. Sorry, just old habits I guess." Raye instantly regretted his slight outburst at the sight of her upset expression. He rested his hand on hers, smiling up at her.

"No, I'm the one who should be apologizing." They sat in silence for several moments, and the tea was forgotten. Concerned by the awkward silence, Raye spoke up again with a question he had been eager to ask. "How is he?" An obvious reference to their newly adopted son, of course, but it took Naomi a minute to reply.

"Still distant. It's only been a day, after all." She rubbed her finger around the rim of the cup, lost in thought.

"Well, it's to be expected, I suppose. Have you come up with a list?" They had yet to decide a name. Naturally, they could've chosen to use the child's old name from when he was at the orphanage, but they wanted things to be a fresh, brand new start. Raye had been so excited he had been experiencing difficulty focusing on his work. Naomi, however, was still troubled, upset by how easy Raye was taking things and mad at herself for being so pathetically infertile…

She buried her head in her hands and whimpered softly.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Raye leaned over and brushed back her hair, startled and worried

"Nothing," Naomi whispered, wiping away the tears she had tried so hard to not let out. "I just can't stop thinking. I… I don't want something to happen to him. I don't want to lose another child…" This wasn't like her, not at all, and yet she couldn't manage to help herself. "It was all my fault…" Raye embraced her, realizing why she had been so eager to distract herself with another case again. It had impacted him too, and he felt a sudden lump in his throat as he struggled to swallow.

"Hey." He lifted her chin to look into her eyes. "It's okay. It's going to be okay. You are strong and beautiful. It was not your fault, Naomi. We can get through this… with him, together." Raye hoped Naomi understood what he meant. He was never very good at comforting others, preferring to leave them alone and let them sort things out themselves, but he knew that this was one of the times he needed to step in and be there for her. Naomi gazed into his eyes, her lashes dashed in tears. He was right, and she knew it. This child needed someone, and, she decided then and there, that someone was going to be her. She took in a deep and shallow breath.

"Here. I made up a list while cooking dinner. I don't know if these will work, but let's look through them together." Naomi handed Raye the small slip of paper with shaky hands and the two ran through the names with a new bond resonating between their hearts.

* * *

 **A/N:** I wrote this instead of studying for an exam. Don't do what I do, kids!

Anyways, this is the result of a random idea that popped into my head around midnight a few days ago. I don't know if anyone will actually care enough to read, but some really close online friends insisted I should publish and see what happens. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. I already know I'm not the best writer out there, and I am terrible with tenses, but, hey, I tried.

This will probably become more and more AU-ish, as some of the "rules" may end up being changed for the benefit of the plot. Already you have probably noticed some differences in the times of the events that have and will be taking place. To clarify for now and for the future: the LA BB Murder Case takes place in 2002, as stated in the manga timeline. This current arc (this chapter and a few others) takes place in 2004. The Kira Case starts three years later, in 2007, with the "intermission" occurring in 2010 and with Near and Mello coming in around 2012. Hopefully, this will make sense, and if it doesn't please do let me know.

 **Warning(s) Details:** Mentions of infertility and hints to a stillborn.

 _*Any and all warnings will always be specified before the chapter, with notes at the end of the chapter giving more details for your convenience. I don't plan on having anything get worse than the actual series, and it definitely will not be as stupidly gory as the Netflix movie. Do expect violence, though I will always tell you beforehand and specify what kind of violence in a little note down here. If I feel as though something is too much for the more sensitive readers, I'll put a chapter summary down here as well._


	2. Chapter 2: What Humans Do

**Disclaimer:** Me no own Death Note. Me own OCs, but they no worth much. You know? G.

 **Warning(s):** References to a case of cancer and minor violence. (i.e., nothing worse than the anime.)

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

What Humans Do

 _2004_

Justin leaned over his father's papers which were sprawled out across the table, shaking wearily as he struggled to stand on his tippy-toes. Raye had left so quickly that morning that he had forgotten the classified documents. Naturally, he probably hadn't assumed that his seven-year-old son would be interested in the case. Naomi shuffled pots around in the kitchen, and Justin, startled, stumbled over.

"Hey, Justin?" Naomi called from the other room. "Are you okay?" Justin scrambled to his feet as she entered the room, smiling innocently. Raising an eyebrow, Naomi turned back into the kitchen, knowing better than to believe he wasn't up to something but also wanting to give him enough space to feel comfortable around her. She flipped the pancakes a few more times and then set them out on plates, decorating the fluffy buttermilk surfaces with creamy syrup.

Finished with scribbling down an exact copy of the files with a blue crayon into his notebook, Justin slipped the book underneath his small bed, fascinated by the facts of this case. Exactly $10,000 was being robbed from the same branches of banks throughout the state. The criminals involved wore silly clown masks to guard their identities every time a heist was committed, and each one them was of an average build. Only one of the perpetrators had ever spoken during the crimes, but no details were given about what they sounded like in the reports he had read through. None of them had been caught yet. He pulled his chain-linked bracelet off his wrist and twisted it around his fingers, humming a tune he didn't know the origin of.

After a satisfying yet silent breakfast, Justin slipped on his yellow boots, trying to sneak away before Naomi noticed. Unfortunately, she was quicker on her feet than he was, and stopped him before he could make it out the door.

"Where are you going?" she asked, folding her arms over her chest. It was obvious, even to the young boy before her, that she had no idea how to be a firm rule-enforcer to a child. This was her attempt at being intimidating, or so Justin concluded. He took advantage of her lack of experience with raising a child, motioning to the window that revealed a bright and sunny sky. Naomi, defeated by his childishly cute nature, sighed, giving in. "Fine. We can go get some sweets at the bakery, how does that sound?" Justin jumped around giddily, before settling down and watching as she slipped on a light jacket and opened the apartment's door.

The bakery had a line, and, unfortunately for Naomi, Justin had chosen now to be restless. He twirled around her, smiling and giggling at the sights of so many pastries. In particular, the cakes and doughnuts really caught his eye.

"Pssttt… You should try the cake with a cherry on it. Cherries are my favorite." Justin spun around so fast he got dizzy, only to see no one looking at him and no one speaking to him. It was odd, to say the least, and he slowly begun backing away from the displays.

'Hey now, watch where you're going, kid." Looking up, Justin saw the the face of an old man peering down at him with a concerned gaze. It seemed as though he had accidentally bumped into the man's leg when he wasn't looking. Frightened and embarrassed, Justin's eyes immediately darted down to the checkered-pattern floor. The old man laughed and ruffled his hair. "Don't worry, kid, it's okay. My daughter did the same thing every time we came here, too." Justin tilted his head to the side. _"Did"._ Not _"does"_. Past tense. Before he could ask, the former FBI agent grabbed his arm and pulled him back to her side.

"Come on, Justin," Naomi sighed, rubbing her temples. "Please be more aware of your surroundings." She bought him the cake he had been examining in the display case earlier, and the two took a seat by the window. Justin pulled off the cherry and set it to the side. He then begun graciously digging into the sweet treat, messily getting the frosting all over his face. Naomi felt herself smiling. It was weird; she hadn't thought that seeing him do something so silly would make her so happy. Perhaps… she could get used to this.

From the corner of her eyes, Naomi saw the old man Justin had run into. After a moment's hesitation, she walked over to his table, bowing her head slightly in a polite manner. "I must apologize for my… son. He hasn't been out of the apartment in several days, now, and so he was very antsy earlier." It still felt weird to refer to Justin as her son, but she didn't want to bother explaining referring to him as anything else, especially not to the guy he had run into. The man looked up at her, momentarily startled. After realizing what she said, he brushed it off with a wave of his hand.

"Don't worry, miss. It's quite alright. As I told him, my daughter used to behave the same way." Mentioning his daughter again, the old man nervously fidgeted, his eyes tearing up at the corners. Naomi noticed this, and calmly formulated a theory.

"I'm so sorry for your loss," she replied honestly, heart heavy in her chest. The man glanced towards her, slightly surprised and a little confused by her response, before smiling gently.

"She's… not gone yet. Cancer. It's not quite too late to treat, but I… Well, paying for it has gotten tough." He later took a bite out of his buttered croissant, and silence overtook the two. Naomi was nervous, regretting having revealed a conclusion she hadn't been fully certain of. In the awkwardness, she noticed that Justin had followed her to the man's table. Unsure of whether or not she should scold him for leaving their table unattended or to hug him after he probably overheard what the man said, she merely rested a hand on his shoulder.

"My condolences, Mr., uh…" Naomi realized she had yet to get his name. He noticed her anxiousness at not having asked for his name before, shaking his head as if to say it was fine.

"It's Thompson. Jeffrey Thompson. Don't worry about it." He chuckled, but there was still a solemn tone to his voice.

"Well, Mr. Thompson," the former FBI agent began again, bowing politely. "I'm Naomi Misora, and this is Justin. I wish you and your family the best of luck. May you and your daughter get through this tough time." The man returned her kindness with a thank you, and Naomi took a thoughtful Justin back over to their table where they gathered their things and prepared to leave.

Justin was the only one to have noticed his cherry missing.

* * *

A woman screamed at the sound of gunfire. Three men wearing clown masks entered through the double doors, one of which had begun shooting at the ceiling. People ran about, slamming into each other, a mess of chaotic bodies trying to escape to safety. It was, to say the least, rather pitiful.

"All of you, get down on the ground!" one of the masked criminals ordered, his voice gruff and firm. The citizens complied, huddled over in several shaking masses. The other two men opened bags and motioned for the tellers to hand over the money, pointing their guns at their heads. One of the hostages cried and tried to crawl away, only for the crook closest to kick her over, laughing at her fear. No one resisted, no one hesitated, no one stood up for the others. But, then again, that's what humans do when faced with a life or death situation. It's every man for himself.

* * *

 **A/N:** If I had to summarize this chapter up in one word it would be… meh. I'm not too fond of how things played out, and already I'm a little nervous about having Naomi become too OOC.

Anyways, a thank you to that Guest reviewer for taking the time to express their concerns! Yes, this story is going to be much more slowly paced than I had originally intended. I'm thinking about having a time-skip after this arc so we can get straight into the Kira case from there. The reason for this slow beginning is simple: I wanted to introduce the OCs in a somewhat interesting way, rather than just having them pop up and have to give detailed flashbacks for them later on.

Hopefully you can somewhat follow along with this "Clown" case. I'm terrible at writing mysteries, but at the very least you readers can play and solve the case alongside Justin. I expect most of you to figure out soon, probably next chapter, what's going on with that. Just remember: every event in this arc will come back up later on.

 **Warning(s) Details:** An old man informs Naomi and Justin of his dying daughter who has a severe case of cancer that her father is having difficulty affording the treatment for. A bank robbery takes place, with guns and a mildly violent handling of the hostages.


	3. Chapter 3: Cotton Candy

**Disclaimer:** Note Death own not do I. OCs my own do I.

 **Warning(s):** Clowns. (Which are much, much scarier than anything in the anime.)

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

Cotton Candy

 _2004_

The carnival was brightly lit by strings of lights that were supported by nothing but a few posts around the park. Children dashed around the other carnival goers, tickets and tokens in their hands, worried mothers following close behind. Justin clung on to Naomi's leg, startled by the large masses of people. Raye rested his hand on Naomi's shoulder, keeping her warm in the cold of the afternoon.

Smells of churros and pizza drifted around Justin, and his mouth watered with longing for something sweet. He released his grip on Naomi and spun around, grabbing Raye's hand and pulling him in the direction of the food stands. Raye stumbled sideways at the sudden tugging, but eventually balanced himself and continued in the direction Justin was taking him. It was a cotton candy stand, big with a relatively long line and dozens of flavors written messily on the chalkboard.

"Do you want one, is that it?" Raye asked, bending down to face his adopted son at eye level. Justin nodded, a big grin stretched out across his face. Raye ruffled his hair and stood back upright, digging through his wallet for cash as Naomi joined the two. Naomi tapped her fiance's arm.

"I'm going to use the restroom. Watch over Justin. He can get… antsy after having too many sweets." She pointed towards a small building on the side of the chaos and started walking away. Justin turned around to watch her as she went, staring at the spot in the crowd she disappeared into even minutes after he could no longer see her. The line steadily moved forwards, and Raye found himself having to constantly nudge Justin in reminder to move.

A hand poked Justin's back and he looked to the side, expecting it to be Raye that was pushing him along again. Instead it was a girl, her dress long and white and her strawberry-blonde hair pulled up into pigtails. She tilted her head to the side as he looked up at her in anticipation, expecting from her an explanation as to why she had tried to get his attention. She merely lifted a finger and pointed at her face, looking just as confused as Justin.

"You… can see me?" she asked, eyes wide. Lost, Justin nodded. "Wow, really? I thought you could only hear me, and that was only when you were feeling, well you know." She turned back around to look in the direction of the restrooms. This was, by far, the most bizarre thing that he had ever experienced. "Oh yeah, did you know that this carnival has the _best_ cherry flavored cotton candy?" She smiled at him, folding her arms across her chest in a confident manner. He opened his mouth to respond, irritated by not knowing who she was, but Raye suddenly grabbed his arm and pulled him along.

"C'mon, the line is moving again," Raye urged. Justin looked back around as he was dragged forward, but the girl was gone, not a trace of her existence present. He blinked and rubbed his eyes continuously, hoping that she would come back. It was a silly belief, he knew that, but it didn't stop him from trying. "Which flavor?" The sound of Raye's voice snapped Justin back into reality, and he turned to face the menu. He hesitated, but only for a moment, before deciding on cherry. Raye ordered and payed the poor fellow dressed in a funnily colored work-outfit, and together they went to sit down at the benches.

The tables were sticky, covered in what Justin could only assume to be a mixture of soda and sugar. Despite all that, the cotton candy was probably one of the most delicious things he had ever tasted, and he quickly grew to understand why the girl had recommended it to him. It wasn't shortly after that Naomi rejoined them. She snagged a tuft of cotton candy, much to her son's dismay, and happily munched down. He glared at her, puffing his cheeks up and pursing his lips in a disapproving manner. It was to this that Raye could no longer contain his bubbling laughter, and soon the three were smiling and giggling as if nothing else mattered.

After finishing his treat, Justin ran to the miniature arcade, leaving behind a worn out couple who struggled to chase after him. He darted around the isles of machines and stared in awe at the prizes. It was beautiful, he decided, to see so many games and stuff animals in one spot all at once. Eventually, he noticed that neither Raye nor Naomi had caught up to him, and left in search of them. The crowd seemed to have multiplied in number during his time in the arcade, and Justin, afraid of such a large amount of people, stumbled towards the edges of the carnival, away from everyone else. Standing on his tippy-toes, he looked around for anyone he recognized, only to hear an argument coming from inside one of the nearby tents.

"I told you, it's mine!" Hearing the shouts, Justin slipped over towards the small blue tent and peared in through one of the tears in the cheap fabric. A woman pounded her fist against a table, startling the two other figures nearby. She looked furious, white make-up covering three quarters of her face. Whether or not she was in the middle of putting it on or washing it off, he could not tell.

"But, ma'am," one of the figures protested. Although Justin couldn't see the face of this person, he could tell by the tone of the voice it was a male. He was slightly bigger than the other person next to him, yet still shorter than the woman. "We were the ones who worked for it, together. It's _our_ money, all three of us."

"Can it, Harry," she yelled at him, waving a hand in his face. Justin mentally recorded the name for the future. "I don't care what you think. I brought you here together, I hired you, I organized it all! It's my money, not yours, and certainly not his!" She pointed an accusing finger at the shortest person in the tent, glaring at him with a fire in her eyes. Harry took a step away from the both of them, shaking slightly at her outrage.

"Listen here, cupcake," the other man purred, his voice brash and filled with a poisonous venom that didn't suit his size. "There is absolutely nothing stoping me from 'telling' on you, now is there? So why don't you just be a good little girl, and split the money?" The stout man turned slightly, and Justin saw his face, which was painted in clown make-up. Justin pulled away from the tear, shivering. A thousand questions raced through his head and he rubbed at his forehead, feeling the headache coming on. Whoever they were, they were dangerous. And if they were who he thought they were… He needed to do something.

"Hey, Justin." The girl from earlier moved into his field of vision, dragging him away from his thoughts. Justin wondered where she had come from, as it seemed as though she had just appeared in thin air from the corner of his eyes. "We should get away from here. Naomi and Raye must be worried sick, you know?" She was speaking in a softly delicate whisper, obviously hinting that the people inside the tent could hear them if they were to talk too loud. Justin nodded in understanding, and the two tiptoed away from the argument. In the safety of bushes near the cotton candy stand, the girl held out her pale hand. "My name is Sheri. It's a pleasure to meet you, Justin."

* * *

 **A/N:** Alrighty then! Another chapter in the bag! I like this one a lot more than the last one, I have to say. Sadly, very few viewers continue on past the first chapter, so perhaps this will go entirely unnoticed. Meh, I'll stay positive~

Anywhoooo, we are nearing the end of this arc. Probably two more chapters to go and we'll wrap this case up. Then it's on to the Kira Case we go! I'm sure… er, hope… that you have some questions boiling around in your brain now! 'Who is exactly is Sheri?' 'What's up with those circus clowns?' 'Will Jeffrey Thompson's daughter be okay?' 'What will happen once Kira rises?'

 _Feedback and any constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. :)_

 **Warning(s) Details:** There are a few people wearing clown make-up. LOOK AWAY!


	4. Chapter 4: Colors

**Disclaimer:** I swear, I'm telling the truth, officer! That Death Note is not mine! I'm not responsible for it!

 **Warning(s):** See end if you have concerns. Nothing new here, really.

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

Colors

 _2004_

Raye opened the door and sighed in disappointment as he saw his son scribbling down things in his journal. It was far too late at night for that sort of thing. Besides, Naomi had tucked the child in hours ago. What was he still doing up? Raye walked over to the small, kid-friendly desk and kneeled down next to the occupied chair.

"Hey, bud. What are you still doing up so late?" Although Raye had asked softly, Justin jumped at the sound of his voice and hurriedly slammed the cover of his notebook shut, worried that Raye would take it away from him after realizing how engrossed into the case he had become. It was unnatural for him to be so young and yet so fascinated with the robberies. Besides, Raye got upset whenever Naomi tried to assist with work. How would he react if he knew Justin was doing the same thing?

Cautiously, Justin hurriedly slid the book over to the side so as not to draw attention to it. "Nothing." His voice was soft, almost like a whisper, and Raye had to strain his ears to hear it. It was a silent understanding between the family that Justin was not one for conversation. Originally, they had thought that it was because so much had happened so fast, but now it seemed as though that was just the way he was: quiet.

Running his fingers through his hair, Raye watched as Justin left the chair and crawled back into bed, burying himself within the luscious covers. Raye sat down on the edge of the bed, leaning over to face his son. "Do you think you can handle going to a regular school?" he asked, watching for any sort of negative reaction. "Summer is almost over, and soon classes will be starting up for kids your age. I think it'll be good for you, but your mother… She thinks it would be better to homeschool you."

Justin thought about this for a moment. The idea of going to a full fledged school sounded solid enough, and yet he felt himself dreading having to wake up before noon just to go sit in some cold room with other people. What could he possibly learn there that he couldn't learn at home?

He shook his head, mind resolved.

* * *

Sheri sat down in the desk chair, flipping through the pages of Justin's journal and occasionally humming to herself. It was a Tuesday, and Raye had long since left to the office. Naomi was running errands, and left him with some weird old lady who smelled of spices and never did anything besides knit on the couch while watching a soap opera.

"So, this is what you've got so far, huh?" she asked. Justin responded to Sheri with a nod before returning to pacing around in circles. "I like the blue. It's my favorite color." Justin had used the blue crayon to write down almost everything, which probably wasn't ideal, but at least Sheri seemed to like it. But, Justin payed little attention to her comment. He needed to do something in order to think, and it was either walking around without purpose or fidgeting with his chain bracelet. Sheri didn't like the way the chain sounded when the little parts clinked together; she said it was annoying. That was okay, though. He could resist the urge. She was a good listener.

Her pale finger pointed to the entry made on the day after the carnival, and Justin walked over to her to look. "I think they did it. They robbed the banks." She was referring to the clowns, of course. But even after the circus moved to another country, the robberies still continued.

"No, they can't have done it." He would've stopped there, but seeing Sheri's face full of excited anticipation, Justin decided to go on. "The woman probably brought together her friends to work the clown positions of the circus. Judging by the way they were arguing over money, it was likely that their boss, the ringmaster, was giving all of them only one check to split." He paused for a minute, then returned to stalking around the room. "The woman wanted the check because it was her who told them to take the job with her, but that's a pretty… cheap move. The other man besides Harry threatened to tell the ringmaster that she didn't plan to share, but I doubt that he would follow through. They probably didn't make that much anyways, considering..."

Silence overcame the room, and Justin realized that was the most he had ever spoken before. He flushed and started fidgeting anxiously with his bracelet, completely ignoring Sheri's sudden irritated tapping of her foot. She eventually gave up trying to calmly grab his attention and, thoroughly annoyed, she grabbed his hands. He stiffened, but stopped.

"Jeez, you need to calm down. It's okay to talk to me." Her eyes locked onto his, and after a few moments he calmed down again and nodded. Pleased that she was able to help him relax, Sheri continued to think out loud. "So, if it isn't them, then…" She didn't finish, yet he knew what she meant. That was what he couldn't figure out, either. Who could possibly be so evil as to rob that much money from a bank only to steal over and over again? It didn't make sense to him, the idea of taking something from someone else. Then again, he was only a child, and had the foolishly preconceived notion that humans were perfect beings with big hearts.

Sighing lightly, Sheri plopped down onto the bed, arms spread wide like a snow angel. Justin picked up his journal and read through it again, straining to find anything he missed. The FBI was beginning to suspect a gang who had recently been having a lot more activity, but that theory didn't seem to hold any real merit. Then there was Jeffrey Thompson. What a poor old man. No one should have to go through what he was struggling with.

"Sometimes, when I lay down, I think about things." Justin looked over at Sheri, who seemed to be saying this not to him, but rather to herself. "I wonder why people do things. Why the world works the way it does. It occurs to me that humans are incredible creatures, capable of handling so many vivid emotions all at once. But sometimes people get overwhelmed, unable to think straight, pulled downwards into an endless pool of their feelings until they can no longer keep themselves afloat. You, too. After what happened, you have never been the same. Maybe, just maybe, it's the same way for all humans, whether they've been through something like you or not." She held her right hand up, holding it above her head so as to block the fan's light from reaching her eyes. A shadow in the shape of her hand covered the upper half of her face. "Sometimes... people do the wrong things for the right reasons."

 _Click_. It was so obvious that Justin wondered why he hadn't thought about it before. "Jeffrey Thompson's daughter was dying from cancer. It is within every father's heart to do whatever possible to save their child. Thompson is no different. He was having difficulty paying for her treatment, so he resorted to stealing. But why such a specific amount..?" At this point, he was fiddling with his bracelet enough to make the usual annoyingly rhythmic clinking almost unbearable, but Sheri didn't bother to even sit upright. He was thinking, and she decided it would be best not to interrupt. Within another half an hour contemplating this, his eyes suddenly lit up. "That's it!"

"Oh..? You... got it?" Sheri asked, her voice unusually shaky. He nodded.

"I've got it all figured out. Now I just need to find some way to tell the FBI without Ra-... er, Dad knowing," Justin replied quietly, and begun writing in the journal again, completely oblivious to Sheri putting her hand up against her heart. She moved her palm around her chest, feeling for even the slightest thud, but to no avail. It wasn't beating.

* * *

 **A/N:** Whoo! I got this chapter done sooner than I thought! One more chapter to go and we are moving on from this arc. Special thanks to the anonymous reviewer. Honestly, your review made my day. I am thinking about trying to get the next chapter up tomorrow just because of how much you inspired me. :)

I want to try and work out a more regular schedule. As of now, all I have been doing is posting a chapter as soon as I finished it. This meant updates every 2-3 days. I'm wondering if you guys want me to schedule for every two days another chapter up, or if you would like me to do weekly updates but with two longer chapters. Say you want weekly. I'll write two, slightly longer chapters and upload them every, oh… Saturday. Say you want the two day updates. I'll post one chapter every two days, but it won't be as long as it would the other way.

 **Warning(s) Details:** Somewhat of a recap, so some previous warnings apply. Keeping in line with the level of stuff that has been happening so far, so I felt no need to put anything at the top.

 _Please let me know any and all suggestions you may have!_ I really appreciate you all for sticking through with me so far! More coming soon~.


	5. Chapter 5: Bluejay

**Disclaimer:** I wish I owned Death Note. Sadly the sky is too foggy for me to see any shooting stars. I do, however, own my OCs, despite their quirky weirdness.

 **Warning(s):** Nothing new. Longest chapter yet, though, so prepare for some reading!

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

Bluejay

 _2004_

The only light came from the setting sun through openings between blinds and the eerie glow cast by the computer screen. Naomi was likely to be back soon, so the need to hurry rushed through the air. "Is it ready to go?" Sheri asked, peering through the doorway. Justin nodded in response and resumed typing into Raye's computer. She joined him, pulling over a laundry basket and turning it upside down to sit near the screen. "Dang, it sure is amazing the kinds of tutorials you can find on the internet. So, if you got this right, no one can track the email?"

"I hope so," was the unsure response. It was a simple idea in theory; he would write up his results on the case and send it to the FBI Agency under some sort of alias. They would catch the one responsible for all the robberies and everything would be back to normal. The only problem was that Justin wasn't sure if normal was what he wanted. This case had been fun, but… "How are you feeling?"

Sheri bit her lip. "I'm not." Ever since this afternoon, she hadn't been the same. It was if she could no longer experience pain or the feel of the carpet under her toes. Nothing affected her anymore, and, to make matters worse, neither of them had been able to find a pulse. Thankfully, she hadn't felt the need to leave yet, but Justin continued to expect that she would end up going away again. Hopefully he could finish this before she had to go.

' _Hello, agents,'_ the words on the screen read. Justin's fingers hovered over the keyboard as he debated this greeting as the start of the email. Sheri waved her hand.

"Nah, too cheesy. 'Hello, agents'? I mean, come on." She seemed very passionate about it, but it wasn't too hard for Justin to read through her. It was very obvious that she was nervous, but, then again, so was he. In the end, though, she did make a pretty good point. "That's almost the equivalent of putting 'this message will now self-destruct' at the end."

Justin thought for a moment and then began typing again. _'Dear-'_

"No no no, nothing with 'dear' in it. Sounds too… sugary." Justin was about to question what exactly sugary meant in terms of a word and not a dessert, but he was interrupted as Sheri pulled the keyboard towards her. "Let's see… We don't want them to know that some kids wrote it. They would never take it seriously. How about we do this?"

' _To whoever it may concern, the culprit behind the "Clown Robberies" is Mister Jeffrey Thompson.'_ Satisfied with that, she handed him back the keyboard and grinned widely. He didn't understand this, however. The style of that sentence made it seem as though they didn't care too much about the… oh. A persona. It was perfect. By making it seem as though they were one way when they really are another, no one would figure out what's real and what isn't.

Glad to have Sheri here to assist with his poor email formatting skills, Justin resumed writing, taking into consideration the occasional criticisms she threw at him. _'The string of heists began quite a while ago, around the same time Thompson's daughter was diagnosed with cancer. By the time they learned this, however, it was much too late for any of the more affordable options to work. Realizing this, he made it his goal to collect enough money in order to pay for her treatments, regardless of whether or not his method in doing so was legal._

' _You may be wondering how he managed to pull this all off, and who the other two mask wearers are. I will be answering all of your questions, but first allow me to clarify; There were a total of four criminals— Mr. Thompson and three clowns from the Circus of Stars that was recently stationed here in L.A. We only ever saw the three, because the other was entrusted to serve almost like a guard dog, watching and waiting for any signs of hostility. However, these clowns were not working for Mr. Thompson; they were working together. This is likely due to the fact that they had similar interests in mind— getting as much money as quickly as possible._

' _The average circus clown does not earn more than $30,000 annually, however, considering how unpopular that particular circus was and the fact that they were having to share the money equally, it's possible that the actual amount they earned was far lower. During every robbery, exactly $10,000 went missing. In other words, 1/3rd of the yearly salary was stolen at every heist. So far, sixteen banks have been robbed. I believe that Mr. Thompson gets the money from every fourth robbery. So, the clowns received the amount of one year's salaries, and Mr. Thompson received money to take care of his daughter. That's $160,000 stolen, with $40,000 going to Mr. Thompson and the rest going to the clowns, who likely divided it equally unless any other complications within the group came to light._

' _There is, however, the possibility that it was Mr. Thompson and only one of the clowns who made the arrangement together, with Mr. Thompson being the one who suggested it. In this case, the clown who agreed to Mr. Thompson's conditions would have arranged for her buddies, her coworkers, to work together in return for the money. Most likely, though, greed has been slowly tearing them apart. They probably quit the circus job, thus explaining why even though the circus moved locations, robberies are still occurring. After all, they were making more stealing than they would have in a year with the circus.'_

Justin and Sheri read through the email several times. "Do you think you're including enough information? I would have thought you would go into greater detail with such a thing," Sheri questioned. "Then again, it does seem long enough on it's own." Nodding in understanding, Justin continued on, adding one more final paragraph to the already tediously long email.

' _Of course, it is entirely up to you whether or not you will believe me. I can promise you that by doing a careful background check on the three clowns who were performing with the Circus of Stars when it was stationed here in L.A. you should be able to track them down and notice that they have suddenly come into ownership of a mysteriously large sum of money. The same follows for Jeffrey Thompson, although he has likely invested all of it into treatments for his daughter.'_

"There," Justin sighed in relief, stretching from his chair. He yawned, his brain tired from thinking much more than usual, yet a giddy and tingling feeling creeping up throughout his body. Was this adrenaline? Excitement? Or fear? For all he could tell, it was a mix of the three.

A flick to the side of his head snapped him out of his thoughts. "Aren't you forgetting something, silly?" After staring into his partner-in-crime's face for several moments, Justin tilted his head, confused. "You need to sign it! C'mon." She snatched the keyboard away again, much to his annoyance. "What do you think we should go for?"

Justin thought about this for a second. A code name, huh? It seemed as though this were all some kind of fantastic game of spies. Alas, he could not manage to come up with anything worthwhile. "Maybe we can… skip the signing process?" Sheri snorted at this, and had to put her hand over her mouth to stop herself from bursting into an all out roar of laughter.

"No, we can't just not do it. Let's see…" She rested her head against her palm and leaned into the desk. "Justin, J for Justin, J, Jay… ooh! I got it! Bluejay! Blue is such a pretty color. It's perfect!" Seeing the happy look on her face, Justin couldn't help but smile back and nod. "Then it's decided! Bluejay it is."

"Sure," Justin agreed, typing up the last bit. He had never realized how difficult it was to pretend to be someone else, but thankfully Sheri helped him come up with something.

' _Don't do something stupid,_

 _~Bluejay'_

The two giggled softly, letting all fears of the future drift away. It was the coolest thing they had ever done, and the childish rebelliousness that comes with the knowledge of getting away with something dangerous rippled throughout their spines. It felt as though they were invincible, as if they could conquer the world together. Hands over the button, together they pushed send.

It was not even a full three seconds later that, upon hearing the sound of Naomi opening up that door, Sheri had turn around and ran, vanishing as soon as she was out of Justin's sight.

* * *

 **A/N:** Alright, alright! Here you all go; an early chapter, as promised. The timeskip will be taking place next chapter. I'm not sure how exactly to go about writing it, but it will most likely contain snippets of things that happened up until the moment Light picks up the Death Note. I hope that this arc wasn't too much of a bore. Now that you know the characters I can start kicking the pace up. Maybe. I always do give too many details…

What did you think about this arc? Was it good, bad, weird? What did you like/dislike about it? I'm always up for any and all feedback. Feel free to call me out on mistakes, anything that confused you, or to simply share your ideas for how the story should go! I hope you all enjoyed this mystery. It was a tough process, but I managed to pull through. At the very least it was good practice for things in the future, hm?

 _Thanks for reading so far~!_

 **Warning(s Details):** Slightly slow chapter with lots of… dialogue? Well, not a lot of action in this. Just wrapping up the arc!


	6. Chapter 6: The Time Between

**Disclaimer:** Death Note is not mine. If by some lucky miracle the ownership is transferred to me, I'll let you know. For now, however, all I own are my OCs.

 **Warning(s):** Flashback-esque.

* * *

 **Chapter 6**

The Time Between

 _2004- November 28th, 2007_

The FBI had shortly arrested Jeffrey Thompson, Mikayla Hudson, Harry Christopher, and Michael Francis for the robberies of the Safesure Banks. The three former circus clowns had put up a fight, but Mister Thompson had gone with authorities willingly. As it turned out, his daughter had passed away the same day that Justin and Sheri, under the alias of Bluejay, sent the email. He claimed that he had no reason to resist now that his one reason for living was gone. Justin had never felt so terrible in his entire life than when he learned of this.

Raye was ecstatic when he was informed about the mysterious email that had showed up in his superior's inbox, so fascinated by the unknown sender that he immediately went home and told Naomi all about it. The two's curiosity only intensified after Raye learned that the FBI had been unable to fully track down where the email came from, narrowing it down only to being located somewhere in L.A.

Ever since then, Bluejay had been taking on several other cases. Most of the time the cases were solved entirely, but a few cases had been left unfinished with ties the FBI had needed to wrap up on their own. In any case, the insight Bluejay provided each time was extremely valuable. On the rare occasions when news of these cases were released to the public, people were already believing that Bluejay would soon be on the same level as L. Whether that would hold to any truth or not had yet to be determined, but neither party had chosen to make any moves nor give any comments.

Naomi had won with Raye over the argument about Justin's schooling, and she had started homeschooling him. His lessons were easy, and the speed with which he finished each assignment was remarkable. She ended up increasing his curriculum to include high-school level subjects, but no matter how hard Naomi planned, Justin would be done within a few hours.

Sheri had been showing up less and less. Justin wasn't sure if she was busy or if something had happened to her. When she did show up — typically when his parents were out or too busy to watch him carefully — they would always work together as Bluejay. Justin found it easier to play detective with her there, but, even at the times when he was without her, he still managed to make things work.

One day, Raye came home announcing that he would be able to take a leave of absence, and together they would go to Japan for a week or two and meet Naomi's parents. Justin did not look forward to going to an entirely different place, as he wasn't sure if Sheri would even be able to come with them. He didn't really want to go without her, but, unfortunately, he didn't want to burst his parents' happy moods. It was for this reason that the matter was decided.

...ooOoo…

Light Yagami would've mistake it for a bird swooping down to catch its prey had he not been paying more attention to things going on out the window than the lecture. At first, he didn't mind it too much, however, upon seeing the light reflect back the crooked title etched onto the notebooks surface, his interest was piqued. After class had ended, Light went down to the courtyard, curiously picking up the mysterious book. He opened it, ruffling through the pages and reading the first line he saw.

"The human whose name is written in this notebook… shall die." Thinking it be some unnecessarily elaborate prank, he almost left it back there on the ground, but the raw curiosity in his veins compelled him to bring it home with him.

As soon as he got home, he pondered testing the so called "Death Note". He half-expected it to do nothing, but when he saw the news reporters go nuts over Kurou Otoharada's sudden death, his mysteriously tingling suspicions were confirmed. Part of him was insisting it had to be some freaky coincidence, but the rational side knew better. In any case, the best course of action was to test it again, and Takuo Shibuimaru turned out to be the perfect lab rat.

It was five days later, on December 3rd, that Light Yagami met the shinigami Ryuk and announced his plan to become the god of a new world. It was also five days later that the anonymous duo who made up Bluejay finally cracked the email of the world's greatest detective while on the plane to Japan.

* * *

 **A/N:** This took longer to write than I thought! I had an exam (yay me) and then a debate/discussion thingy, so I've been busy. Oh well, here it is… the long awaited time skip!

I'm particularly afraid of continuing on from here. I don't want to simply retell events from the series, but at the same time it's something that needs to be done. I'll try to keep it interesting and work quickly to get it to where "new" things are happening. Any advice/tips/recommendations on how to proceed are greatly appreciated! :)

 _Don't be afraid to review. Your opinion matters to me, no matter what it is. Confused? It's okay to ask for clarification! Ideas? Go nuts! Theories? I'd love to hear them! I swear I don't bite. Well, not usually._

 **Warning(s) Details:** Slightly boring flashback-like scene. At least it's short.


	7. Chapter 7: Friend of a Friend

**Disclaimer:** I can try all I want, but I'll never own Death Note. Those geeky, weird, and slightly crazy OCs, however… yeah… they're mine…

 **Warning(s):** N/A.

* * *

 **Chapter 7**

Friend of a Friend

 _December 3rd, 2007_

—

"' _Now that I think about it,' he thought aloud, swallowing a big chunk of the red fruit, 'I wonder if she's still around here, in the human world.'"_

—

Justin took a bite out of his ice cream. The caramel stuck to the corners of his mouth, but he enjoyed every bite. He could always wash up after the treat. Sheri sat next to him, watching his every move. She had joined him some time ago, but had yet to say anything. In the back of his mind, Justin wondered how she got to Japan with him. He hadn't seen her on the plane…

"What flavor?" It took Justin a second to register what she had said. The plane ride had exhausted him, and not even the sugar from the ice cream could hold him for much longer. Sheri leaned in anxiously, biting her lip, waiting for his response.

"Vanilla with caramel and chocolate chips," he replied between bites. Justin watched her reaction. She was fidgeting, and he concluded that she didn't just want to know what flavor he was eating. "What's wrong?" She relaxed, seemingly grateful he had read her well enough to know something was on her mind. Neither of them were good at starting difficult conversations, but his question had given her an opening, and for that she was thankful.

"It's just…This is Japan, right?" At this, Justin raised an eyebrow. How could she not be certain of where they were? Sometimes, the things Sheri said made no sense whatsoever.

A breeze swept through the small park, and the two shivered as it tickled their skin. Weather here in Japan was different than in America, that much was for sure. It wasn't too bad, however the park was nearly desolate. Justin was curious as to what other kinds of activities Japanese people did on their days off if they didn't go to the park. But, there were other, much more important things than to think about that today.

"Yeah, we're in Japan. Didn't you know?" Justin questioned, his gaze firmly locked onto Sheri's eyes. She pulled her legs up against her chest, rocking slightly back and forth, and let out a sigh as she shrugged. "Sheri… how did you get to Japan? Were you on the plane?" he pressed. Another shrug. Justin gave up, retreating back to his ice cream. She would let him know when she herself figured it all out. It was obvious she knew some of it, but not enough to feel like sharing with him yet. He could wait.

Sheri pulled Justin's small laptop out from his backpack and flipped open the shiny lid. She logged in, something she had done so many times before, and begun typing. "Oh yeah, I learned a cool trick while looking through videos online the other day. I experimented a bit while you were on the plane. Here, watch," she said, pointing to the screen. Justin rested against her to look at the laptop with her. "You know L, right?"

"Yeah." Justin's eyes lit up at mention of the world's greatest detective. It was something exciting to think about, plus L seemed like a good potential challenge in the future. Sheri kept on typing, her hands moving gracefully over the computer's keyboard as if she'd done it for all of her life. "What are you doing?" The screen was filled with the language of code, a language that Justin had never been able to fully understand, but a language that Sheri seemed to be proficient in. Perhaps it was all the videos she'd been watching lately, but it was also possible that she just had a knack for it.

"I found something regarding L while you were sleeping on the plane. Check this out," she giggled excitedly, turning the screen around to face Justin. Strands of numbers with captions underneath them popped up. If he had to guess, it was close to hundreds of thousands of numbers, if not more. His brows furrowed in annoyance. Did she really expect him to understand any of this?

"I don't get it." At his response, Sheri huffed, and snatched the laptop back over, still holding it where he could see. "This," she explained, pointing at one of the number strings, "is an IP address. And these," she continued, pressing on the numbers to expand the tab, "are the emails sent out through the IP address." Justin admired the extent of her knowledge with computers, and read some of the emails from the open tab. Only three of the emails contained anything interesting, and those three were all emails that L had, at some point or another, been sent to authorities regarding cases. The rest were some sort of… baking newsletters.

"No way… Are you sure these were his?" Justin asked in disbelief. "That means you can trace the IP address, and-"

"No. Well, I tried, but the person living there now is an old lady who is obsessed with cats and pastries. Which means that L temporarily used the IP address as a cover. Think of it like a smoke screen at a magic show, hiding away what's really going on behind the scenes. What's interesting is this." Sheri pulled up a small notepad dotted in flowers from her jacket pocket. She flipped open to a page and handed it to Justin. "These are all the IP addresses I discovered that have peculiarities in the normal patterns of sent and received emails. Look at the similarity between the numbers. He goes for the same kinds of combinations when choosing the 'disguise' IP."

Justin was stunned, butterflies swarming around in his stomach. "This is incredible, Sheri!" She flushed and smiled at his praise.

"That's not all. With this, I was also able to track down the email he uses underneath all the decoys and disguise IP addresses." Her grin widened, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "What do you say to sending the famous world's greatest detective L an email?"

Nodding, Justin returned her smile, thoroughly excited and anxious at the same time. His face fell as he ran back through the conversation. "Sheri… where were you when I was on the plane?"

Sheri shrugged again. "I was always there. You just didn't see me again, and I didn't feel like talking." She pulled up a web browser and handed Justin the laptop. "Now, go on! No one else will ever get this chance. Take it!"

...ooOoo…

"So, let me get this straight," Light said, resting his chin against his hand. This was turning out to be quite an interesting night. "You, Ryuk, are a shinigami. You dropped this Death Note because you were bored, and I just happened to pick it up. And now we're here?"

"No, I didn't just drop the Death Note 'cause I was bored. Didn't I tell you?" the large, looming shinigami chuckled. He snarfed down another apple, enjoying the sweet juices and crunchy texture with every bite. "Man, these are good."

"Ryuk," Light sighed, eyes narrowed. "You might've left out that detail." He managed to retain a relatively calm demeanor, but the fire in his eyes served as evidence to his burning curiosity.

"Mm, well, you see, mhm, another shinigami dropped her, mm, Death Note a while back. Mhm, gave me the idea," Ryuk explained, taking numerous bites out of the many apples Light's mother had provided. "Now that I think about it," he thought aloud, swallowing a big chunk of the red fruit, "I wonder if she's still around here, in the human world. Actually, that's possible. She wasn't in the Shinigami Realm when I left…" At this point, Light had stopped listening. Someone else had the Death Note?

"Interesting…"

...ooOoo…

The room was dark, the only source of light emitting from the large computer screen. The world's greatest detective sat in front of the desktop, hunched over in a position that would seem uncomfortable for most. The speakers let out the beep of a notification, signaling a new email. Curiously clicking open the pop-up and reading the message, L chewed harder on his thumb. He would need to ask Watari for more sweets.

* * *

 **A/N:** I have a lot to say about this chapter, but first things first… _Thank you, Comet Tail, for your kind review!_ I dedicate this chapter to you. Reviews like that really make my day. I'm glad you like the concept; it's something I've thought about for quite some time. I wanted to have an OC with a different motivation for getting involved with the Kira Case other than "they're a smart person who wants to be a detective someday." I warn you, though, things may get more confusing, and you may end up having more questions than answers. ;)

Anyways, I'm really nervous about portraying the characters from now on. A warning for the future: this is my first time writing a fic, so, yes, the characters will end up being slightly OC at some point. I know I said it at the beginning, but now as the more iconic characters are starting to come in, I just want to make that clear.

I tried putting a "Chapter Teaser" at the start of this. Let me know if you like it/hate it/have another idea.

 _Thanks for all the reviews, favorites, and follows! More to come soon._

 **Warning(s) Details:** The only thing about this chapter is the somewhat slow pacing.


	8. Chapter 8: Worthy Opponent

**Disclaimer:** Sí, Death Note es muy bueno. And that is the extent of my Spanish. I don't own Death Note! But I do own my OCs, even though they're not part of a multi-million dollar franchise everyone loves and adores.

 **Warning(s):** May have some technicalities.

* * *

 **Chapter 8**

Worthy Opponent

 _December 4th, 2007_

—

" _Challenge accepted, L."_

—

Justin grinned widely, the laptop screen illuminating his face from within the covers in an eerie manner. He was supposed to be asleep, especially this late… early in the morning. However, he found himself to be wide awake, mind fueled by raw and rich excitement.

As soon as the sun actually rose, he would have to thank Sheri. It was great to have someone to bounce ideas off of, and her skill with computers worked perfectly with his deductive abilities. They worked so well together, it was if they were the same person, which he supposed was true regarding Bluejay. Justin was glad they had met.

' _How did you get this email address?'_

Ah, right. L. It had taken a while for L to actually respond. Whether he was busy or had been debating his response, Justin didn't know, but he was so excited at that simple message he could barely think straight. It took a great deal of effort to calm down his racing heart and start typing.

' _I have my ways. My question still stands, by the way. How are you, L?'_

The sound of foreign voices whispering snapped Justin out of his thoughts, and he slammed the cold laptop lid down, pushing it underneath his fluffy blue pillow. The voices stopped, but he continued to lay under the white covers, shaking way more than he was willing to admit. After several more minutes, he finally worked up the courage to poke his head out from under the covers, and eventually pulled back out his laptop. He was greeted with yet another message from who, in his eyes, was the coolest person to have ever existed.

' _I was doing better until I checked my email. Your turn. Answer my question.'_

Still struggling to believe this was all real and not a dream, Justin noticed that the time gaps in between replies was shortening. He smiled.

' _Didn't I already tell you? "I have my ways." Perhaps it's too late at night for you? Shall I leave you be?'_

Justin had never really realized until now how difficult it was to play Bluejay without Sheri around. He'd never been good at role playing, even when it was just a game, but this time it was real life, which only served to pressure him even further.

' _I see. So you're no longer in America?'_

A pang of panic rushed through his nerves, and he felt his heart practically exploding in his chest. Questions surged through his head, and he fought to keep up the Bluejay persona. How would he get out of this? Was there any way, with the person he was going up against being _the_ L?

' _It was merely an assumption that you wer-'_ Halfway through typing, another email popped up, the sudden "ding" making Justin jump.

' _Your first email sent to the FBI regarding the "Clown Robberies" case suggested that you were living somewhere in L.A., but now that doesn't seem to be the case. To quote you exactly, "here in L.A." Also, the FBI were able to trace the email down far enough to confirm you sent it while in L.A. In the last message to me, you responded with saying it was too late at night, which leads me to believe that, wherever you are, it's currently night. However, in L.A., it's late in the morning. Beginner's mistake. You really should be more careful.'_

Justin wasn't sure of what to say. L hadhit the nail right on the head. He supposed that's why they called him the world's greatest.

' _Would it be far-fetched of me to believe it really is night where you are, too, L? After all, you didn't deny that it was late.'_

That was all he could think of. He would need to have a talk with Sheri about this; she would know what to do. The last thing they needed was L learning enough to confirm that Bluejay really was just two kids playing detective. What would he think if he found out? Justin shuddered at the thought.

' _True. I did not deny that it was night for me. I recently left home and came to where I am now for a case. I assume you know of what I am talking about?'_

Justin practically squealed with delight, all worries disappearing. He stopped himself, though, realizing how fangirl-like that would be if him. Still, he couldn't help but wonder if L would ask him to work on the case together should he figure out which case he was talking about.

Flopping down against the pillow, Justin closed his eyes, straining to recall any details of cases that would interest someone as skillful and arrogant as L.

"Mysterious heart attacks. You heard about them in the news. Reporters are assuming it to be a disease or poisoning from food. A few forums online are speculating a mass murder scheme carried out by the mafia or some other major group," Sheri's softly sweet voice reminded him. Justin gasped in shock, sitting up so fast his vision blurred and head spinned.

"Sheri? What are you doing here? Where'd you come from?" But she wasn't there. Justin rubbed his eyes roughly. It really was too late for these things.

' _Mysterious heart attacks. Only criminals. I'm interested too. I presume you're going to take on the case?'_

' _Yes. Tomorrow I make the announcement to the representatives present during the ICPO meeting. May the best win.'_

Was this a challenge? In that case…

' _Challenge accepted, L.'_

* * *

 **A/N:** Wow! I really didn't expect so much positive feedback. Thank you all so much!

So, the pace of things is slowly increasing! L vs Bluejay; who will win? What's up with Sheri? _But, Gummie… WHY WAS THERE NO LIGHT IN THIS CHAPTER?!_ Shh… there there. Light will be coming soon. As far as answers to the other two questions… Well, my dear readers, that's up for you to figure out! More coming soon. Thank you for reading~

 **Warning(s) Details:** Awkward chapter. Probably will revise later. Wrote during class, so typos may be present.


	9. Chapter 9: Declaration of Involvement

**Disclaimer:** Yeah, no. I don't own Death Note. But the weirdo OCs? Yeah, yes. I do own then.

 **Warning(s):** Embarrassing my characters because I am cruel.

* * *

 **Chapter 9**

Declaration of Involvement

 _December 4th, 2007_

—

" _I see. If that means what I think it does, then it makes sense to set up the investigation headquarters in Japan. I assume that L plans to engage in a direct confrontation with the suspect, which should be what proves the need to organize everything with the Japanese Task Force."_

—

Sheri laughed, sliding Justin back his laptop. "And we're in!" she announced. "It's go time." It seemed as though her skills regarding technology were only increasing, and she's likely yet to reach her limit. Justin had immediately requested that she break into the ICPO's server so they could make a formal announcement of their interest in the heart attack case, and she wasted no time getting them all set up within the hour. Now all that was left to do was wait until L disrupted the signals, alerting them of the meeting so that they could actively participate. There was just one problem.

"So..," Justin spoke slowly and softly, drawing out the word. "I'm going to need to actually speak for this, aren't I?" He ran his fingers over the cheap microphone installed in his earbuds' cord, trying to plot a way out of this. Sheri giggled as if that were the silliest question she'd heard. She snatched the buds out of his fidgeting hands and plugged them in, likely working on a voice distorting program.

"Yes, you're going to need to use your words." Seeing her friend's face fall, she sighed. "What other option do we have?" Justin thought about this for a moment. It was what L would be doing, yet L was by far more charismatic than he, plus had done it numerous times before. Justin shook his head.

"Why can't we just have text pop up on our screen?" he grumbled, annoyed that she was right; there really was no other way that was as effective as talking through the mic. Pleased that Justin had finally realized this, Sheri resumed her work, hands moving across the keyboard. "Why can't you do it? We both know you're the better actor."

Sheri paused mid-type. "I can't do it, Justin," she complained, rolling her eyes. Noticing Justin's confusion, she elaborated. "They wouldn't hear me. I speak too quietly." Her answer was forced, but his complete and total faith in her allowed for the spineless explanation to be accepted. "If it makes you feel any better, I can help you figure out what to say."

Nodding at her offer, Justin leaned back against the pillows, chewing on his pen. A beep buzzed from the small computer, and he sprung immediately back up. Sheri withheld the laptop from him for several more moments before handing it over, a smile making its way onto her anxious face.

The screen lit up to provide them with a view of the entire ICPO meeting room. All eyes were focused on the direction of the camera, which was likely where L's iconic backdrop was being displayed for all to see. The detective in question was busying addressing the delegates, explaining the difficulty of the case.

"Here," Sheri pointed to the space bar, "is the key you push down on to unmute the mic. Unless you're actively holding it down, nothing we say will be broadcasted to those funny looking guys in suits." She giggled and Justin smiled, thankful for her explanation.

" _In any case, I will need the full cooperation of every organization being represented in the ICPO, including, but not limited to, the Japanese Task Force,"_ L's distorted voice explained through the speaker. Justin turned to look at Sheri, both equally curious.

"L must be in Japan right now. Last night...er, today's early morning... he said he had moved locations for a case, and since he's insisting for things to be set up in Japan, that's probably where he moved to," Justin explained randomly. Sheri nodded in understanding, continuing to watch the delegates' interactions with L. "But why Japan in the first place?" Thankfully, they weren't the only ones who didn't understand this, as one of the men spoke up.

"Why Japan?" the Chief of the NPA questioned, standing up from his chair. Justin thought about this for a moment, and Sheri rested her head on her knees. That was a good question; L seemed to be set with the investigation headquarters being organized in Japan, and had even moved there for some reason.

Sheri thought about it, then declared, "Wasn't the first heart attack victim here in Japan? I think I remember seeing it on the news here..." She pulled over the laptop and minimized the current screen, opening up a search engine. "Kurou Otoharada. Hostage situation. Suddenly collapsed in the building, allowing the hostages to escape and authorities to move in. Died from a heart attack. News of his crime was only broadcasted in Japan." She smiled as she noticed the wheels turning in her friend's head and handed him back the laptop, reaching a finger over to push down the spacebar.

"I see. It does make sense to set up the investigation headquarters in Japan. I assume that L plans to engage in a direct confrontation with the suspect, which should be what proves the need to organize everything with the Japanese Task Force," Justin pieced together. Sheri lifted her finger off the key and leaned back, arms folded and a huge grin shaping her face. "What?" he asked, confused.

"Aw, you did it! I'm so proud of you!" she exclaimed, pulling him into a huge bear hug. Confusion lined his expression before it slowly melted away into revelation, and he flushed.

"Sheri!" he shouted, embarrassed. "I-I wasn't ready!" She huffed and released him from her grasp, pouting. The meeting room was in uproar over the new distorted voice, and L had gone completely silent, likely letting things settle down. Justin stuffed his head against a pillow, hiding. Sheri laughed at his actions.

"C'mon, you did so well! See, it's not hard," she encouraged. "Now, go on! Introduce yourself. Only L knows that you accepted his challenge to participate in this case; none of the representatives know who you are or what's going on." She nudged him, poking at his shoulder. He sighed in defeat, swallowing hard, and pushed down on the key.

"I apologize for not making myself known before now; I was so engrossed within the conversation that I forgot to make my declaration of involvement. I am the detective known as Bluejay, and I plan to work on this case as well," he explained softly, voice shaky. Releasing his finger from the spacebar he returned to slamming his head with the pillow.

" _Interesting,"_ L finally spoke up, but that was all he bothered to say.

* * *

 **A/N:** Yay for a chapter with fairly decent pacing to it! This has turned into somewhat of a get-away; something I write in whenever I have nothing better to do, so, as per usual, typos are likely. Again, I have to thank everyone for their continued support and positive feedback. If you haven't learned yet, I've taken on working on another fic ("Before He Falls"), so I will be updating both fics, one update for one of the two every 2-4 days.


	10. Chapter 10: Connecting Dots

**Disclaimer:** No, really, I don't own Death Note. Just my OCs.

 **Warning(s)** **:** Late chapter.

* * *

 **Chapter 10**

Connecting Dots

 _December 5th, 2007_

Sheri knew that she wasn't normal from the moment she opened her eyes, waking in a small bakery with no memory of where she came from nor who she was, just a name and the clothes on her back. Things had become even stranger when she realized that no one could see her or hear her. The enticing aroma of the sugary delicacies was the only thing there to comfort her. She had felt so detached, watching things play out before her like some sort of movie. The thing that scared her the most was the occasional blurring of her vision and the soft beep of some machine that immediately followed. In those dizzy moments, the world seemed to spin, and she would faint in the middle of the small shop, waking up much later only to find herself in the same place, no one watching over her nor caring about her state. The cycle repeated with no signs of stopping, and she was powerless to go against it.

That was until she met Justin. Young but quiet, he appeared the same age as she, and immediately her interest was piqued. Of course, other children, too, had come to the bakery before, but there had been something different about him, and the way she felt watching him. In a rush of excitement, she had blurted out her favorite kind of cake as a recommendation, fully expecting him to ignore her but not able to really help herself. A nagging question quickly surfaced itself, and she wondered when it was that she discovered her love of cherries. To her surprise, he had heard her, although he couldn't see her at first. It was mind-blowing, having been alone and without attention for so long, to finally have someone notice her.

Days later, Sheri woke up someplace different for the first time in what felt like forever. A carnival, and a crowded one at that, which only served to confuse her. Looking back on it, she could kick herself for having not taken full advantage of the situation to play the games and ride the attractions. Justin had been there too, and this time could see her rather than just picking up on her voice. It was then that Sheri had managed to put together the pieces, following his eyes as he watched Naomi disappear into the crowd. Lonely people seek out each other, whether they realize it or not. This case didn't seem to be any different.

She noticed later, around the time the two of them took up the Bluejay name, how skilled she was with a computer. The funny thing was that she couldn't seem to recall how she knew the language of code in the first place, or where she'd learned it. Nonetheless, Justin's compliments of her talent with programming made her all too happy to pay it much mind at all. And, to make matters more interesting, she wondered to whom the face she kept seeing in her mind's eye belonged to, but, then again, the only person she really knew was Justin. It was silly to think that she remembered anyone else when she couldn't even recall how she learned her favorite food.

Disorientation still seeped into her body at times, but it was more predictable now. She could tell when Justin's attention was diverted elsewhere or when the overheard the sound of footsteps grew closer. Any slight distraction and she'd fall again, and to prevent him from seeing her in such a pitiful state she would run as fast as her legs could carry her until she was no longer within his line of sight. It was embarrassing, and far too difficult for her to explain when he questioned her actions. However, things had seemed to be getting better, and she felt as though she could handle this kind of lifestyle.

It was when her heart stopped pumping blood through her veins that she actually registered the bizarre state she was in.

She was dead; there was no doubt about it. And yet here she was, talking and thinking just like Justin did, although a little bit slower than him. No matter the amount of research she put into it, she still couldn't find out the science behind her existence. Sometimes, when the days were slow and uneventful, she wondered if it was possible for her to be nothing more than a figment of Justin's imagination, something he conjured up to keep him company. But, that theory didn't really hold any water, as she had drifted aimlessly around the bakery long before they'd met. Yet still, she found no purpose in her "life", as it were. How could something like that even be possible? The only good part about it seemed to be that the dizziness had stopped, and she no longer was startled by the beep that came from no immediate source that she could find.

"Wow, L sure made quite the statement, huh?" Sheri asked, her slim finger poking Justin's arm. He rolled his shoulders, shaking her off, eyes still firmly pressed up against the television screen, a huge grin shaping his dry lips. She sighed, pulling away for several minutes, pretending to have given up, before pouncing on him hard enough to knock him over and off the bed.

"Sheri!" Justin chided, biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing. "What on Earth was that for?" Sheri giggled and helped him to his feet, wiping the hair from her eyes. She turned and clicked off the screen, putting her hands on her hips.

"You know full well what that was for. You ignored me!" she accused, sticking out her tongue in defiance. "Besides, he cut off the signal. L clearly doesn't plan on saying anything else, so why glue yourself to the television like that?"

"Still," he berated, huffing. With one hand he clicked back on the television, and, with the other, waved Sheri away before she could steal back the remote. "You have to admit, though… That was pretty cool." A laugh left Sheri's soft pink lips and she shook her head.

"That is the attitude of a classic fanboy," she declared, watching as Justin glared at her. Shrugging she continued, "Now, then, what're we gonna do next? If we don't act, L's going to steal all the glory." Justin muttered something under his breath and began fidgeting with his chain bracelet.

"I doubt that there will be much more he can do while still hiding his face," he sighed. "We may just have to do the same, too." Sheri tilted her head to the side, brows furrowing in confusions.

"What do you mean?"

"The investigation will go on, but it won't be in ideal conditions. Think about it; how long will it be before L and the police can no longer stand working together? Realistically speaking, it's impossible to work comfortably along with someone whose name and face you don't even know," Justin explained, biting his lip. "I'm not silly enough to believe that L will be able to miraculously solve the entire case within a few weeks. He's only human, after all, just like us, and he's bound to have his limits. L usually quickly deduced the suspect and handed the case back over to the authorities, but, with how long this case will likely take, it's possible that their relationship will take a turn for the worse."

Humming, Sheri folded her arms, shifting her weight to one foot. "Okay, I get that. Someone in the police will slip up, L will investigate, and tensions will arise. So what? I'm asking what we're going to do, not how we can help L. This is a challenge, right?

"I'm not skilled enough to win a challenge will L." Justin rolled his eyes as if that were obvious, but Sheri saw the way his face dropped at those words. No, not on her watch.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a hug, ignoring his struggling. "You totally are." She released him and watched as he floundered backward, completely muddled. "I mean, maybe you won't solve this case, but I bet you'll get something that L won't. All we can do is hope that it will be something crucial, just one tiny piece of evidence that could flip the entire case over on its head. So perk up." Poking his cheek, she handed him his notebook.

"I… I suppose that the first thing we need to do is set up a connection within the task force."

* * *

 **A/N:** This is such an overdue chapter. Sorry, everyone... Midterms suck. Anyways, here y'all go! I'm going to try and get back on schedule, but as of right now I can't make any solid promises. Again, I'm soooo sorry!

 **Warning(s) Details:** Backstory-esque.


End file.
